20 Questions
by Onyxx-09
Summary: Modern AU of Kyle and Tate being the twins of Moira and James March. A drabble, tell me if I should do more. "I'm going to ask you a series of question and I need you to answer truthfully. Everything here will stay confidential." Tate grimaces; he's heard that bowl of lies before, and he crosses his legs and remains silent. Kyle leans forward, asks, "promise?"


**_A/N: Wanted to post this on here to hear if his will get any attention. I've never written for this fandom before, so I feel very insecure._**

 ** _This a short test for an AU. It's if Kyle and Tate were the twin sons of Moira and James March. It's set in modern time. If uou like this little thing, don't forget to tell me because follow/favorite count doesn't say shit and it could be sitting as a to-read. The list of headcanons that inspired this (and moreabout the_ _AU) can be found on my Tumblr._**

 ** _For no particular reason one is Kyle and Tate is two._**

* * *

● **Ok. Now to start off, first question: can you recall an account of an embarrassing moment with your mother, or other mother-like figure?**

1\. "Um," Kyle scoots further back in the single plush polyester chair. "I'm not quite sure. My mom _specifically_? …Why though? What's she got to do with this?" He slightly squints, looking over the therapist and he begins to overthink. He's told that perhaps it's to find repressed feelings, something psychological; maybe it's some unresolved hindrance he's developed from an early age that should be addressed—neither seem like a sound solution. "I doubt I have anything but I'd guess it would have to be the one time I brought a girlfriend home, because that was embarrassing…"

Kyle remembers what she told of what happened when he left her alone for no more than _three minutes_. He had been told that, almost as if waiting until Kyle left the room, how his father approached his then-girlfriend. The man had been smoking and grinning. _"I was informed that we might have an intriguing guest today,"_ James spoke. _"However, you are not quite whom I'd presume to be Tate's taste, but I suppose you'll do."_ And then she had to correct Kyle's father that she was here with the _other_ son, and then the _little twitch_ of James' lip that followed which she wasn't sure turned his grin into a grimace or a smirk. When Kyle returned, his girlfriend had been in hovering over the kitchen island, his mother spoon-feeding her a glob of homemade cookie dough. Kyle had nearly passed out from embarrassment because she wasn't supposed to run into them, they were only supposed to be in and out, and he hadn't wanted his family to influence or give her a bad idea…

Kyle sighs. The walls of the room are the usual creamy, painted white; there's a pitcher of water and two glasses on the small table between his therapist and himself. His eyes close for a second too long, the therapist notices. "Either that…or when I _died_ …"

2\. "Why do you want to know that?" Tate watches the therapist with an unblinking stare. "Is that supposed to help me?" The therapists explains how that's a possibility, but only if Tate is willing to cooperate, which has proven quite… _difficult_ this entire session. "What do you want to hear? About some dramatic event how when I was little that's supposed to have messed me up? You'd like me to describe how I used to bathe with her when I was a baby so you can get off on the thoughts of her tits?"

With a confounded look, the therapist tells that those thoughts were definitely not the intentions. They can tell that this is a compassionate subject, by the hunter-like glare the teen wears.

Tate doesn't look convinced, however, blinking only once. He leans forward. "Well I guess that one time she caught me jerking off would count as one."

● **Can you describe the time around the moment you realized that your mother and father were in fact not perfect or normal?**

1\. Kyle bites his lip. "I'm…" He thinks. "I'm not quite sure, actually. …Recently, maybe? A couple years ago?" The therapist in the chair across asks _why_. "I don't know," he admits. "I just kinda always thought they were…but when I used to bring friends over, they'd always comment about something being _weird_. I guess that's what first got me thinking. Like…it probably came to me some time in middle school, and everything I started realizing just, like, came on full-forced. When you're raised around it, you don't really realize it, you know? Also…I remember that our father taught us to _lie_ for everything, especially when we get in trouble… My grandma never liked that." Kyle reveals that following so, he's noticed little things his parents would do that is not considered particularly _typical_ or _traditional_.

2\. "What do you mean _not normal_? No one really is…What makes you think they're not?"

The therapist tries explaining how there are multiple factors, but that there is also society's construct of _normal_ is still quite relative and can be placed on a spectrum. Tate counters _how would they know what is normal then?_ His outbursts are pointed out that they are in fact _not_ normal.

● **Can you tell about an incident of your brother beating you up, or you beating up your brother? If it never happened, make up a situation of how it might go.**

2\. "Yeah, me and Kyle, we used to fight. A lot. Like, all the time, almost. Drove Dad insane, I think, because he'd just walk out the room. I mean…What brothers haven't, y'know?" There's a pause. He watches the therapist jot down on the yellow notepad. Tate's fingers play with the fringe of his jeans. "There's not much to say. I beat his ass, and he'd beat mine." Tate pauses, as if thinking. "Kyle's a wuss, but he hits _really_ hard. Like he throws his whole body into it… That's kinda why we stopped. Y'know, there was this one time he knocked me out cold at Chuck E. Cheese's over some _air hockey_."

1\. "My brother has these… _fits_ of anger—as you know, obviously." Kyle gestures to the therapist seated across from him. "I never really wanted to fight him as much as we did, but he's always an instigator, and sometimes I did it to stop him when he had those fits. They were just worse when we were little. He'd start screaming for no reason…pounding his head…I thought he was just overly emotional then but it keeps on. He's on meds for it now. And yeah we had fought—over the remote, the last waffle, the cooler toy." He pauses. "He'd go from being fine to suddenly like he wants to hurt somebody—like, _really_ hurt somebody." Then he mutters, "sometimes he still does."

The therapist hears, though he wishes they hadn't. "Does Tate still have those fits as violent as they were when you two were younger?"

"Not really. His meds are supposed to help with that. Since _maturity_ kinda failed in that department."

"You know these thing are more neurological than a part of one's personality," Kyle is told quite calmly. "Do you know that?"

"Yeah." He watches a jet leave behind twin streams of cotton in the sky. "That's what his medication works for. But that isn't the issue. That's just _him_. He's just loud, a jackal; it's always told that he takes after our dad more."

"What is your father like?"

Kyle pauses for a beat. "You don't want to meet him."

"Why not?"

"He's always busy." And he watches the therapist write in their notepad. "Plus anyone who does find him…erm, _intimidating_?"

"Do you think you take after your mother instead?"

Kyle scoffs, to the therapist's surprise. "I don't take after anyone. That's why I was dropped off here." It's said with a grin and a laugh, and there was obvious self-deprecation behind his words.

The therapist writes more notes in their journal. The topic is turned back on about Tate. "During his session with me, your brother told me that he still keeps up with his medication—"

"He's lying."

The therapist blinks, inwardly taken by surprise.

"We're used to doing that a lot, remember? Lying. He'll do that to you too. He doesn't trust anyone. Jot that down as another one of his problems for him since we're on the subject," and he points.

They do just that. He's asked if he is going to lie as well, but by doing so will make everything even more difficult. The blonde assures that he won't, that he took an oath, that he's the trustworthy one. Kyle is then asked when his brother switch attitudes—"personalities," Kyle says—is that when the brothers fought? He responds with an easy "yes." And then he's asked if he has ever had thoughts about _really hurting_ someone. Kyle doesn't reply.

● **Describe this event: finding out the true nature of Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny and your first confrontation with your parents afterward.**

1\. "We always knew," Kyle shrugs, continuing to be the calmer of the two and more cooperative. "It never really was a thing at our house. Our father made sure to tell us the truth from the beginning." He's asked what age had it started. Kyle answers around four, six maybe. "Our mother and our aunt and uncle told us about The Tooth Fairy and that was literally the only one we believed. We promised to not speak it around Dad."

"Why not?"

"He would have thought it was a waste of time believing in childish make-believe."

The therapists adjusts in the large chair. "Do you ever regret that? About not having those childhood fantasies about those figures?"

He slightly nods. "Yeah." He watches them drink from one of the glasses between them, and Kyle wets his lips.

2\. "Do you?" Tate answers. "I knew they weren't real since I was four. When did you stop? That kind of stuff—believing in those fairy-tales—are said to be some sort of coping mechanism by people who are too afraid to deal with the real world, or grow up. It's one thing to be naive about it when you're small, but then there's believing in that stuff when you're older. _That's_ sad."

The therapist asks if Tate suspects the possibility that he's missed out on the childhood imagination and joy of it all.

The teen shrugs. "No, not really."

 **● In a detailed manner, describe a day with your brother.**

1\. "No thanks. I get enough of him at home. You want a few words about him? Lazy, needy, demanding asshat."

2\. "Why is this about _him_?

● **If you have, can you describe the time around the moment you realized that your mother and father were sexually involved? What age did you realize? How did you found out, your reaction, and the ensuing time you speak with your parents?**

1\. Kyle clearly becomes uncomfortable by the question. "I guess I always just kinda knew; had it in the back of my mind. But—you know—it's not really something you _talk_ or _think_ about. It's just—" He stretches the sleeve of his navy blue zipper-sweater over his knuckles. "My brother got the worst experience with it. He's the one really scarred from it because he found out first hand." And that's all he speaks on the subject. He asks for the next question.

2\. Tate's answer isn't immediate, and the therapist waits patiently through the various collection of subtle emotions that can only be flashbacks of memory—from disgust, appall, curiosity of the question, horror, to his lips setting in a thin line. "What did Kyle say?" he asks first, and after being told that the question had basically been shoved onto him, remains quiet. " _Flaker_ ," he hisses. And then, "he's the reason for it, y'know. The fucker."

The alleged tale is a collection of incidents ranging somewhere between age seven to twelve years of age, starting from an innocent question about the scratches on Daddy's back one morning before breakfast, to coming home unannounced to their mother dressed is a short maid uniform and garters, and a fumbled "you will be attended to in time!" behind locked doors, and taking school's mandatory Sex Ed, and putting two and two together. Tate had been the one to practically _walk in_ to his parents' grand bedroom, more so out of spite, and discovering a large red swing.

 **● Can you evaluate your place with your family? For example, do you feel that you are the starving artist? The slacker? The underachieving genius?**

2\. "I don't know." Tate muses. "Slacker, brother. _Pride and joy_ , according to my old man. Loner. Inferior—because my teachers don't like me very much. Rock king," he grins at the self-appointed title. "The smart one." Then he begins on his family. "Kyle's easy: wuss. He always used to cry when we were little." He's asked to elaborate. "If a dog got stepped on, he'll rush over, crying for it. If a cat died, he'd already be in tears. Roadkill that's three days old? About the same thing. _God_ , when we had to put our pet down, _geez_. So, yeah, Kyle's a wuss; uh, Mom's a…I dunno, Duchess. That's what Dad calls her anyways. And then _he'd_ probably be…Don Vito Corleone." Tate smiles.

1\. Kyle's answers come quicker. "Twin, son, go-to researcher. …Football player. Good-grade student. Um, I don't really talk much at home." Then he lowers to a hushed tone, becoming quieter with each syllable. "The baby. Overachiever, perhaps. …The family disappointment…" Then it rises back to normal. "I have a great aunt who likes to call me a gingerbread dumpster ever since I was six." The therapist asks about the rest of his family. Kyle says that he can't come up with anything.

● **Describe your most memorable family holiday/vacation.**

1\. "Oh god. Do I? They're…they're… We don't really take those anymore. Stopped some time ago, thank god."

"Is there something terrible about your family vacations?"

"You're dissecting us. You tell me."

"Kyle, I need you to work with me."

An exaggerated sigh is let lose. "I'll just say that the one hundred percent _good_ one was going to Disney World with extended family when I was, like, nine."

2\. Tate leans back into the cushions, running his hands over the stitched burgundy embroidery. He hates the design. "I'm not sure…probably Jersey. There was a mob boss there apparently and I wanted to meet him." He's asked if he had. Tate shakes his head. "Nah. Dad nearly lost his shit when I told him. There were problems in the city we went to. It was for a business trip, I think. First time I held a gun! Was twelve, I think." There's a light smirk that appears and then vanishes in a flash. "We stayed only for two days before we had to hurry and leave. Not sure why. But the place was nice…fun, too. We had marathon video game competitions with Mom in our pajamas, and all the food we wanted from room service." He hadn't seen his father for much of the trip, he tells. "'It was pretty sweet."

● **Can you describe the first time you introduced a boyfriend or girlfriend to your immediate family?**

1\. "Uh, _disastrous_ , scarring, _embarrassing_. Regrettable. Never again."

2\. Tate begins rocking back and forth. "Never had one. But Kyle took the blunt of the embarrassing situation when the idiot _actually_ brought this one chick over. She was super hot too. But everyone and their mother knows the common sense rule to _never_ bring your girl around your folks. And that nerd actually did it!"

● **Okay, what about describing the first time you introduced a boyfriend or girlfriend to your extended family?**

1\. "I…that's probably never going to happen, though. I'm sure my grandparents and aunts would've liked meeting her, but…" Kyle shakes his head, a blonde wave falls astray. The swooping bird outside grabs his attention.

2\. Tate's rocking increases, becoming more vigorous. He's becoming impatient. "Nope, never have. Next question."

● **Now, using research or imagination, can you create a day in the life story of your mother, father or their siblings when they were your current age?**

1\. Kyle pauses, thinks. He tilts his chin, opens, closes, then opens his mouth again. His fingers play along the ends of the armrest. "Actually," his jaw slacks, completely perplexed, "I _don't know what_ my mother does. I mean, I know she works in my parents' company, like, negotiating partnerships maybe, but that's it. Plus my father doesn't talk about his childhood, so…"

2\. "They don't really talk about work. They say that we'll find out in time, when we get to take over the company." To be honest, according to his father, it would probably involve killing somebody, literally or figuratively. This, of course, Tate doesn't say. "How many more questions? This doesn't seem like the questions a therapist would ask…"

● **In a "Freaky Friday"-esque situation, you have switched bodies with your mother or father. Describe your next 24 hours.**

1\. Kyle traces the logo on bottom of his sweater. "That movie always freaked me out. And imagining myself as my _mother_?" His nose scrunches. "Or my _father_? That's just _wrong_."

2\. "Hm," Tate shrugs, "probably wear jeans and a jersey, order a pizza party if I was Dad, just for the hell of it. Because he's always wound up." Tate smirks, chuckles. "He never wears regular clothes. For Mom…now _that's_ some weird ass disgusting shit." His nose scrunches, looking identical to his brother.

Theoretically, if either son were to go through a _Freaky Friday_ situation, both would likely get arrested because adult and controversial relations of their parents would get entwined, and they would be clueless. If their father, his company would be in jeopardy do to questions unable to be answered and neither knowing the _right_ things to say in meetings; putting up with angry phones calls and their mother tangling in their father's hair, running her hands across their chest before dipping lower. If their mother, either son would likely need _at least_ an hour to take control of the situation and calm down; they would suffer from no knowledge of female attire, and avoid the lecherous, grabbing hands of their father.

● **Could you possibly create a story of one of your ancestors in connection to a famous event in history?**

1\. Kyle thinks. He looks off to the left corner of the room; there's painting of a meadow and seashore hanging on the cream walls. His mother likes lily flowers.

"My great grandparents and the Titanic, I guess," he eventually suggests. "All the stories they tell are romantic-ish, and they've always said how they'll be together forever."

The therapists questions why the Titanic, given it's a _tragic_ romance. And Kyle shrugs. "It's the most romance think I could think of," he answers. Then he's asked if his answer is a byproduct of familial influence—to which he shrugs again as a possibility—then is questioned what his idea of a romantic situation would.

"Perhaps…a girl I like, and…a haunted house…on Halloween. We're watching Friday The Thirteenth and blankets, maybe… Why? Or visiting an art museum. See Van Gogh replicas and shit. Why this question though?"

2\. Tate knows his response almost as soon as he hears it. A devilish smile transforms his features. "The Valentine's Day Massacre!"

The therapist blinks—a different reaction than the blonde had hoped.

"I would say my uncle, but he'd probably be killed in the first forty-eight hours," the blonde muses aloud. "So then I _guess_ I'd _have_ to say…my parents, as odd as that sounds." He licks his lips. "I've never seen anyone else handled a pistol gun good enough and not pussy out. My uncle would likely shoot himself in the foot."

The therapist taps the end of their pen against the top of the notepad. On the tip of their tongue, an inquire about a permit possibly, hopefully, lying around the teen's house. It isn't asked. The pen scribbles black ink between college ruled lines.

Tate leans over the edge of the seat. "Hey…whatcha writing down in there?" He doesn't get an answer.

● **I need you to think back to an event with your family from your childhood. Can you tell me about it?**

1\. "You know we already did this question."

"This is different. What I _meant_ was a memory that is significant to you."

"Like losing a tooth or learning to skate? How's that supposed to help my diagnosis? Everyone has those."

"Something that _changed_ you. Positively or negatively. Or disturbed you." As an example, the therapist gave a memory of when they were younger that left them looking at the world through a completely different lens.

"Well," Kyle cocks his head, "there's the _Poltergeist_ movie I saw way before I was thirteen, which was a _stupid_ idea. And then there was—" He stops.

There was the memory of seeing his father wiping blood from the large rings on his knuckles at fourteen. Or when he was five and had to travel with his mother for a business trip, arriving to the ex-business partner's location and her being grabbed by the arm and pulled into a room, the man screaming some minutes later and Moira spitting something out in the sink before flipping on the dish disposal, scraps of flesh flying up from the sink's blades and her wiping drops of blood from her lipstick. Or, an elaborate scheme planned with his twin to poison his sixth grade teacher out of juvenile revenge, only to back out last minute and Tate receiving the blame. Or when he was first jumped by a gang of girls; or when a gun was first forced into his pre-pubulescent hands, his twin bending over his kill, and Kyle shaking, shaking, his father motivating him to pull the trigger on the thieving, druggie, scum of a man. Or, when he lost his company after a music concert, and approached by a tall, tatted man who ran his knuckles along Kyle's cheek.

"…Kyle… _Kyle_!"

The blonde shutters, blinks.

"Where'd you go, Kyle?"

He tries to shrug it off. "Sorry, sorry… I was just thinking. I, uh—"

"Thinking about what?"

A hand finds it's way in his neat blonde hair, disrupting it's style. His eyes widen. "I was…I was just thinking about—thinking about this one time." His mind searches for some lie to tack on the end.

The therapist waits patiently.

"This one time I heard my parents arguing. It was about me." His palm presses to his forehead. He's leaned over the arm of the chair. "And another time I nearly set the house on fire." It wasn't a lie in those incidents actually did happen. But Kyle prefers to not talk about the things he was, preferring to keep them as buried memories in the shadowed corners of his consciousness—and he tells this to his therapists. They make a side note to come back to the topic a few sessions later.

2\. "Well there was this girl who used to live next to us in our old house. She had a hamster, I think…or was it a Guinea Pig…?" He shrugs. "Anyways, she used to think she was friends with us, and my mom used to make us go to her boring birthday parties. She was _annoying_. One day I threatened her that if she didn't stop asking to have play-dates and pissing me off, then I'd feed her rodent to the pigeons."

Tate stops. The therapists asks why, and when met by silence, of the boy staring off at a point beyond the therapist's head, their voice raises in volume to revive his attention.

Tate blinks, mumbles a "sorry."

He's asked what he was thinking about—the therapist isn't given an answer. Instead, his old neighbor is addressed. "What happened to her?"

"Oh she left."

"Why?"

"Her hamster."

"What about her hamster?"

"We ran over it with the lawn mower." He waits for a reaction, doesn't get any. "Actually, it was a mistake. Me and Kyle. So, apparently he left the cage open by accident one day while over there and the thing got out. So one day when our dad took us out on the lawnmower—those you can sit on—we were fighting over the wheel and didn't see the thing in the grass. Didn't hear it either. Only noticed because the blood. We got out to look and there were tiny gut chunks everywhere." A hint of a smirk appears and dies. "Of course Kyle was crying buckets."

"What ever happened to her pet's remains? Did you do something to them?"

The blonde shrugs. "The birds got to it, I guess. Or the stray cats."

● **I would like to see if you can either remember back to or imagine if your parents were to tell you that they were getting a divorce, and to describe your next 24 hours.**

2\. Tate's finger tapes on his knee exposed by the rips in his acid washed jeans. His skin is pale, chapped, and scarred; a cut there looks fresh and red. "Um." His mouth opens and closes, and sets in a line. "I…" His jaw hangs open for a few seconds longer. "I dunno. I don't think I'd be able to choose." He bites his thumbnail. "They don't really fight anyway, so…"

1\. Kyle tells that he highly doubts for that to ever happen, but if so, he would call to stay at a relative's. "It ain't the best when they argue. That much I know. But I do remember this one time—they had just fought, I guess—and Mom was _pissed_ about something. She yelled at us to get in the car and then at my dad that he could have the house then." He's asked if he remembered what the argument was about. "I would guess infidelity, but that too sounds unlikely. And not because I don't think it's likely for a marriage to _never_ have problems, but I'm not sure what else it could've been. Still don't know."

"And what happened then?"

"Tate wanted to stay with Dad, who looked like he didn't know what was going on but was getting madder by the second. Mom eventually dragged Tate with us. And we stayed at a cousin's."

The therapist clicks their pen against the wooden edge of their notebook. "And how did you feel about that?"

"Well I didn't know what was going on so…"

● **How did your sibling's reputation affect how teachers treated you in school (or vice versa)?**

1\. "A lot. When people realized I wasn't him, everyone expected me to be a little like he was."

"And how is that," Kyle is asked. "You said _"once people realized that you weren't him."_ What did you mean?"

"We're twins. Identical." He spoken as if that should have been obvious. It was, and they apologized.

"So your brother's reputation affected you because…your peers couldn't tear you apart?"

Kyle admits that that was part of it all. "And the teachers," he tells. "They expected me to be like him. To _act_ like him and…my brother was known for…not being the best student, behavior-wise."

"And you didn't want that to affect you. What did you do for that?"

"Well," Kyle shrugs, "everything I could. I didn't get into any of the things he did."

"Do you think that's worked out for you?"

 _No, not quite. It could be better_ , he thinks.

Kyle shrugs. "Yeah."

"How so?"

Kyle's jaw tightens.

2\. Now, Tate's face darkens. "I thought this session wasn't going to be about him? I already told you that at school everyone loves Kyle." It's said more in a mocking tone.

"I sense a bit of hostility from your answer."

"It's not hostility." And Tate leans forward, the V-neck of his ugly sweater gaping to show his white undershirt. "If you had someone so close that everyone else prefers, looks to like some kind of angel, knowing he's not, wouldn't you get sick of it? Everyone asking _"why can't you be more like Kyle? Kyle's more stable, why can't you try to be too? Kyle's so perfect, why aren't you trying harder?"_ " It's barely shown, his jaw grinding. "He's not special. He's weak. And it's sorry."

● **You have to spend a week with one cousin, who do you choose and why?**

1\. He scratches at a dried food stain on the end of his sleeve, his fingernails bitten short. "I have this cousin, Mabel. There aren't a lot of others in our family, and most of them are either parents or little kids. She's the coolest one, and we kinda grew up together. Plus she's the only one closest my age."

Mabel's house is the one that Kyle would ask to go over to fifty percent of the time for family visits. Now a junior in college, her apartment is usual side stop during visits, or a crash location when his home life grows too crazy. And Mabel would roll her eyes about the tales, listening to her distant aunt's husband and wonder how they married. Mabel's the only semi-normal family closest to Kyle, the only one whom he felt closest to and knew the most of the craziness that happens behind closed doors. The last time he saw her was probably five months ago.

2\. Tate sucks his teeth. "If I had to…it'd probably be my cousin Danny." And he's asked why. "No reason."

In truth, Danny too has a history of drug use and defacing property. Also, he's not a flaker like Tate's own brother, Tate would give as his excuse if it were any other person. Danny isn't one who would be found with some rolled joint full of some kind of deadly drug between his teeth, but the gossiping, the delinquent acts, the tenebrous black wardrobe.

● **You have to spend a week with one grandparent or one pairing of grandparents. Who do you choose and why?**

1\. "The only ones I have are on my mom's side." He watches for a reaction that he doesn't receive. "I actually _like_ my grandparents, by the way."

2\. "My mom's parents. My dad's are dead."

● **Imagine or describe your own wedding and the involvement of your family in the planning and execution.**

1\. I don't know. I'm really focused on that right now. But if it was, I'd probably wait until the last minute to tell my family. It's not like I'm going to leave them out. They're family, you know. Can't leave them out."

The person across from him gives a small smile. "Focus on school first?"

"I'm going to be an engineer. I'd let my girl take care of the wedding. Most like that stuff anyway." A mirroring grin stretches his face.

2\. The bridge of Tate's nose wrinkles. "I don't know. No one thinks about stuff like that. …Isn't that some _Lifetime_ shit girls watch with their mothers or some shit?"

● **Describe your family's greatest catastrophe to date.**

1\. Kyle's small smile _falls_. The therapist watches his jaw tighten. He swallows. There's flashes of emotion that flicker one after the other, like flipping pages of a book. Kyle looks at the clock high on the wall; it's probably past his session. He wets his lips. "Nothing really. We've never had a _catastrophe_. Isn't—isn't it, uh, past the end of the session?"

2\. An impish, toothy smile grows on his face. It also doesn't disappear this time. "Oh boy…" This is going to take a while, and he leans forward.

* * *

 _ **A** **/N: I have no set plot in mind so if anyone has one,tell me and I'll try it. If no reaction to this, I'll just delete this.**_


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